


I Know Nothing About Supernatural

by Makir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (I guess?) - Freeform, Existential Crisis, Gen, In Medias Res, Minor Violence, POV First Person, Profanity, shitpost fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makir/pseuds/Makir
Summary: A man has an existential crisis about Supernatural. No seriously what the hell is this show about?
Kudos: 4





	I Know Nothing About Supernatural

I stared at my screen in bewildered disbelief, staring at all the little pictures and gifs passing wildly by as I kept scrolling. One question, one simple question burned in my mind with the fire of a thousand suns:

**What in the everloving hell is this show about?**

I missed the hype of the hit show "Supernatural" when it was as its peak. I simply dismissed it as a somewhat edgy but at the same time innoffensive piece of TV Media who teenage girls really seemed to love. I am not a teenage girl, so I simply passed on that opportunity.  


But it's on this day that I still am somewhat confused and bewildered, this day: 19th of November 20XX, that this ancient evil comes back to haunt my life from the windows of my bathroom.

Who are these generic white boys? Why do so many people thirst for that balding demon dude? Truly, I couldn't understand, and I still don't. I stared up from the screen of my phone to meet the eyes of my colllegue Lazarana. She stared at me like I was filth, as her impatience grew to even greater extents each passing moments: "My dude, aren't you done?" She said in her usual tone.  


As I stared up at her from the porcelain throne, I felt like a rat trapped under a carefully woven basket. "Lazarana, you don't understand: Who are these people?"

"What people?"

I moved the screen of my phone to show her. Her expression didn't falter even for a second. "I mean, they sure are dudes. Why does that one have a "Love Loses" in bright pink written under him?"

"That's MY question! Come on, you were a teenager once, you surely must have heard of this show."

"I lived in a Soviet apartment in Eastern Russia." She stated matter-of-factly, clearly getting increasingly more annoyed.

"That doesn't answer anything."

She then proceeded the snatch my phone away from my hands like an angry mom would. I weakly tried to hold it, but I failed miserably. "OH COME ON! Please, I really need to know what the fuck an Impala is!"

"Dude, you can just watch the show."

"NO!" I screamed with all my might, enough to make the chandelier above sway a bit.

Before Lazarana could reply, a dark green tear in reality appeared beside her, just by the window, and from that festering wound an entity appeared that seemed to warp reality by the very core: Astoro, the metaphorical anthropomorphic personification of my inner demons and the evil of humanity as a whole. He just looked like a dude though. A particularly attractive dude, but a dude nonetheless. His name is also a very uncreative anagram of my name.

"Now now, let's not get too hasty here. Let the boy know." His silvery eyes stared at the woman before him, a devilish grin on his face. "After all, you know what "Supernatural" is, right?"

Lazarana's lips trembled slightly at the devil's words. "You fiendish bastard, I swore off that bullshit a long time ago!"

I stared at her wide-eyed. "Wait, you lied to me!"

"I lie to you all the time, how are you still surprised?" She asked, her eyes glaring at me, and then at the cooler me by the window. "What do you want, Astoro? You wanna die?"

"Not really, I just wanted to propose something." His folded arms...well, unfolded, and he raised his hand towards the ceiling of the bathroom. "Would you..." He pointed at me. "Want to watch Supernatural with me?"

It was at that point that I picked up my Glock and pointed it at him. The toilet was a surprisingly comfortable seat, so I wasn't so angry to actually stand up, so I simply said nothing and shot him.

The bullets phased through his body and shattered the window behind him, but at least it made him drop that arrogant look on his face, replaced instead by a confused and angry look: "What the **FUCK?!** I try to be nice for once, try to indulge you in your weird hobbies, and you shoot me? Seriously? Un-fucking-believable, you humans suck ass, I'm outta here." He conjured up the portal next to him and was about to enter, before I stopped him.

"Hey just one quick question: Does Super Hell actually exist?"

Lazarana proceeded to kick me in the shin, causing me to scream in pain and fall to the floor, face planting the tiled floor next to her. "OW!" I shouted in a delayed manner, compared to when the kick actually happened.

She then proceeded to pick me up and forcibly giving me a ride on her back as she escorted me outside the bathroom.

"You're gonna pay for the window this time."

"Okaaaay..."

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Came back after years and this is my newest work. Now this is quality. :)


End file.
